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John Winterhalus
John Winterhalus|Row 1 title = Born|Row 1 info = John Benjamin Winterhalus 580 K.C. (Early 50s) Southshore, Hillsbrad Foothills, Kingdom of Lordaeron|Row 2 title = Spouse|Row 2 info = Margery Emily Winterhalus (598 K.C. - 617 K.C.) (Deceased) Erika Winterhalus (626 K.C. – 634 K.C.) (Deceased)|Row 3 title = Children|Row 3 info = 4 (2 Deceased)|Row 4 title = Nationality|Row 4 info = Lordaeronain Human|Row 5 title = Affiliation|Row 5 info = Southshore Militia (Formerly) Alliance of Lordearon (Formerly) Kingdom of Lordaeron Army (Formerly) Kingdom of Stormwind (Formerly) Eleventh Regiment (Formerly) Grand Alliance Army (Formerly) Lionmaw Vanguard (Formerly) Gilnean House of Tarsias (Reinstated) Holy Church of Light (Active)|Row 6 title = Gender|Row 6 info = Male|Row 7 title = Alignment|Row 7 info = Lawful Neutral|Row 8 title = Position|Row 8 info = Chaplain of Westridge Chapel|Row 9 title = Status|Row 9 info = Alive|Row 10 title = Motto|Row 10 info = "To act the light's will one must be pure of heart and strike as strong as steel"|image = File: JohnW.jpg}}'John Benjamin Winterhalus '(Born 11th day of bloom season 580 K.C.) is the 25th and currently acting Chaplain of Westridge. Born in the township of Southshore. John grew up to be a prominent soldier briefly serving the townships' militia. Shortly after he moved away and enlisted in the Lordaeronian Army. Where he served as a footman until the invasion of the undead scourge. The army was devastated and scattered around the kingdom. He left the army and traveled back to Southshore and lived there for a short time before moving his family to Stormwind City. Soon after he enlisted in the Stormwindian army duo to the need of income, eventually going through the Eleventh Regiment where he rose to the rank of First Lieutenant before the formation of the Lionmaw Vanguard. Becoming a Captain during his service until being honorably discharged from suffering mental disorder during the Invasion of Draenor. After the invasion he was moved to Northshire Abbey until his recovery. Afterwards he shortly served as a military adviser in a hope to restore his military career but his attempt failed duo to his health condition. During his entire military career he created a strong bond with the Church of Holy Light. Becoming a faithful servant of the Light. In a period in between his career he even rose to become a Paladin of the Order of the Silver Hand. Now retired from his military career. He serves the Holy Church of Light. Acting as a missionary until he was anointed the 25th Chaplain of Westridge. He moved from city life with his young daughter, Erika Junior to the Westridge township. Living there to this day. Early life His First Years In the year 580 of the King’s Calendar. Birth was given to a boy named John Benjamin of family Winterhalus in the small town of Southshore, a coastal town south of the foothills in the Kingdom of Lordaeron. Living in the moderate family with an older brother and sister. He lived his first few years in the township along with his parents and siblings. Being taught all the basic things in life. He eventually rose up, walking about the house, playing, starting to mutter words of the common tongue. He did and learned anything an ordinary child would do in a small peaceful town. With the passing years that came by and growing bigger and stronger every day. His father, an officer within the Militia and an experienced soldier from his early days in the Lordaeronian army. Was a wise and strong man, well respected within the town for his hardships in the army and defending his home against invaders, bandits and other dangers from the area. Although a strong fighter who you’d say seen it all having only a harsh attitude cause of his endurance in war, was not the case, instead a care and loving person with the patience like any other. One day he called out John, and the boy ran out to find him, drawing close to his voice he stopped in front of a shed behind the house, where his father usually worked in, the door slides open hearing the crackling of the wood John hears ruffling of stuff inside as if someone was finding something. He takes a peek inside from the side of the doorway. Spotting his father looking down inside a chest throwing out junk as if it appears he is desperately trying to find something of importance. He grabs onto something as at that moment, he’d suddenly stop his search, slowly holding up the object out of the chest he’d rub his hand across the flat side of the object, dust faltering off of it, he’d look over his shoulder, spotting little John a smile spreads across his face, letting out a little cough. His father started to become grey and old after all, the old fart stepped up to the doorway where John stood, looking down upon the little lad. He extends both of his hands towards the boy which he holds the object with, kneeling down before him in the process he looks up to him. John looks at the object, at first glance it just looks like an ordinary sword, but after looking a little closer it seems to be a rather short sword, still long enough for the average man, the point looks extremely sharp, the flat side of the blade almost blinds his eyes as he gazes into it when the sun reflexes from the pure steel of the sword, you could see how perfectly forged the blade appears although all its long hardships and endurance. “I shall pass this blade on to you one day my son, this was passed down to me by my father and his father before him, it has seen many battles and was only used so to protect family in times of danger and war. Once you’ve mastered the wits and the skill to use a weapon, you shall wear this blade to defend what you hold dear and with it a reminder what you use it for, let it never be used for evil for we are the light in the darkness.” His father would stand sheathing the blade as he walks up to the chest, he places it back where it came from, closing the chest down tight. He turns around picking up a wooden sword throwing it directly towards John. “Now start training my son! There is a lot to be done” John grabs onto the wooden hilt of the sword holding it up in the air letting out a fierce looking yell as if he went into battle. His father chuckled as the both went outside and with that his training began. Period of Adolescence On the summer of 594 of the King’s Calendar, a bright blue sky and the gleaming sun make itself present on a late afternoon across the foothills, with a light breeze that flows across the valleys, wavering the branches of the trees as the leaves make a soundly rhythm as they move. A young lad can be seen on the middle of a field. He looks about the age of a teen, slightly muscular build with red hair and green eyes. He wears linen clothing with a blue headband and leather boots. Holding in his hand is a small sword made of wood. The lad seems to let himself become in utter focus, ignoring the sounds and movements around him, while moving his body into different positions, he starts to add it up by making use of his sword, using rather advanced techniques with the sword, to make swings and thrusts while moving across the field. A rather aged but seemingly still energetic man appears on the field. Holding a sword in each hand, one made of wood and one of steel. While walking the lad’s way, who hasn’t bothered to give any attention to his presence. The man yells “John it’s time!” and after a moment notice John ceases his movement and stands straight towards the direction of the man. The two would be faced towards each other in the middle of the field, the man would stab his weapon of steel in the ground next to him while still holding the one of wood with the other. “It is time to test your skill and strength my son, for only the strongest will be able to join us and defend the lives of many.” As a respond a grin would appear on John’s face as both make themselves ready. John has trained every day for his past few years ever since his father gave him his wooden sword, challenging his friends and others to duel so to test and improve his skills. Physically exercising to build up his strength, learning the ways of his father to stand beside him one day in battle. Being the best of his siblings in combat although the youngest, his father made him ready to be a strong defender so that he could be ready for this day. A small breeze makes the grass move as the man steps forth leaping forward, he moves his sword up only to bring it down right towards John, with no good intentions John holds both hands to his hilt as he moves his sword horizontal as wood and wood clash together, using all their strength to oppress one another. John makes a move to kick him on his knee to remove his balance, he’d move back in defense as John makes a swing towards the side of his chest only to be blocked as the man holds the sword vertically on his side, he would only be deceived as John used his made distraction to kick him straight on the chest that was left open. The man loses balance as he falls down flat on his back and without reach of his sword, John moves his sword as he makes a thrust towards him but the man makes a straight swift kick to one of John’s legs and rolls over to the side as John lands straight into the mud himself. Both would stand up, facing each other once again now covered with bruises and mud. The man, takes up the blade, one made of steel, while John still has his wooden sword he looks surprisingly at his father. “Favor does not always reside with you and you must know how to survive even in the direst of situations. Adapt to what you have learned for this is the true test of the blade!” Both they stand before one another across the field, there is no creature to be heard for miles, even the sound coming from the town is too far away to be heard clearly. The only thing is the constant moving of nature by the air. John changes his footing holding his sword back, he looks up to the man as if it is the only thing he can see, blindly ignoring everything around him. The man steps up, creating more speed by every step until he’s at a full charge. He moves his sword to the side ready to swing it at John which also decided to step up, running towards each other. The man swings his sword from the side towards him as they are about to clash, John swiftly rolls to his left, right under the blade’s swing. Instantly retaliating with his wooden sword by swinging it towards the man’s leg to put him off his balance. The man moves up his leg as he brings it right across his face to avoid the attack. John falters to the ground as he spits out his own blood. -To be continued-